Blowing Out the Jack-O-Lantern

Blowing Out the Jack-O-Lantern

Converse-clad feet dragged on the ground. Holding a goodie bag weighed down with Twix, I walked the path of my last Halloween. It was chilly, a few years before climate change turned my Maryland suburb into a 60-degree October oasis. I was somewhere between 11 and 12. My breath still fogged in the air.

At my side were the girls I would spend every Oct. 31 with for the next five years. They, too, were experiencing their last Halloween. We held hands, skipping from house to house, completely unaware of the finality of the familiar scene.

Halloween Traditions and Memories

From late preschool until what felt like endless tween years, Halloween meant a few things to me. It was an unabashed celebration of my neurotic imagination, a chance to become every — and I do mean every — female character from Harry Potter. It meant wandering the streets without parents, admiring decorations, and ranking treats based on taste, size, and the number we were allowed to take from metal mixing bowls.

Assuming my parents let me ride my sugar high into the early morning, Halloween also meant another birthday on Nov. 1, inching closer to a thrilling “teen” title. Every late-night horror movie and high-stakes candy trade on a friend’s bedroom floor marked another year passing.

Lily Scheckner, 12:12 pm, Nov 01, 2025

Author's summary: This nostalgic reflection captures the bittersweet final Halloween of childhood friendship, imagination, and the approaching teenage years.

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Yale Daily News Yale Daily News — 2025-11-02

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